


A Lost Soul

by orphan_account



Category: The Beatles (Band)
Genre: Angst, George is a good friend, I love making Paul mad, John is hurt, Mentions of Sexual Content, Miscarriage, Multi, Paul is stressed, Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-16
Updated: 2020-01-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:53:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22281391
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Dot becomes pregnant. John doesn’t handle the news well.
Relationships: John Lennon/Cynthia Lennon, John Lennon/Paul McCartney, Paul McCartney/Dot Rhone
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> TW: miscarriage

Along with rain down pouring into the abyss of the night, a crisp wind soared by leaving John shivering in his trench coat outside of the Cavern pub. George told him earlier that Paul wanted to meet up with him in front of the club hours ago, and now it was probably the dead-end into midnight. John sighed, increasingly becoming irritated and impatient while withdrawing his hands from his coat pockets with a cigarette in his hold. "Bloody Christ it's freezing out here." John spat under his breath, holding the cigarette between his lips as he tried his best to light up the cig with his shaking hands. The dim light above him hadn't really offered him any help with trying to figure out what he was doing and whether or not he was about to burn himself.

The door to the club opened, and out came George who seemed to be shit-faced with possibly every documented liquor bottles on the display. "Paulie came by yet?" He slurred, pulling up his hood as the rain poured over them both.

John exhaled smoke and shook his head with an annoyed scowl. "No. I don't know where he is at all. Risking getting ill waiting around for him."

George shrugged with an innocent ' _hmph_ ' noise, and held his hand out in silent question if he could get a cigarette. John discreetly rolled his eyes, digging around in his coat pocket to remove yet another cigarette for George. George giggled at nothing in particular, while taking the cigarette and lighter into his hand. "Why don't you come inside with me Johnny? Get a couple of drinks while we wait."

John thought on it for a bit, and looked over at George. These were one of the times where he's glad Paul introduced him to George. Even though John was mean and cold to him at first, he always had an interest in the younger man. He had a patience like Paul, a calm face and a poised temper unless truly provoked. Maybe that's why they became friends so fast, just because of the similarities that are clearly there but a blindspot to most people that don't look into it. John wouldn't really be surprise if they were second cousins removed, he's betting on it mentally that they're related in some type of way. The _McCartney-Harrison's_.

"Why're you smiling? Does that mean, 'yeah let's go inside and get out of this rain?'" George asked, raising and dropping his eyebrows teasingly at his older mate.

John just couldn't help but to gently laughed into the cold, "Piss off Harrison. I'll wait out here for a couple of minutes. You can go inside."

"Eh- nah, I don't want to leave you out here alone." George shook his head, wanting to make sure John doesn't get jumped or any worse; kidnapped. They're becoming well known in Liverpool, a bit popular as more of their concerts evolved in gossip talk between the local girls and boys. Even some parents (women mostly, to satisfy their guilty pleasures) came to see one of their shows, finding them actually entertaining.

So they waited, and _waited_. George had his arms crossed, head lowered with his eyes locked onto the wet and puddled ground. John brushed at the corner of his eye, feeling tired and exhausted of waiting so long for Paul. It felt as if hours went by when it was only just forty-five minutes that soared along. John threw his head back and inhaled sharply, with irritation flowing through his bloodstream. "Right, let's go home George." He announced, grasping at George's arm and pulling his disheveled body towards him.

•••

"Paul."

The younger man went pale, his hazel eyes growing even more wide at the sound of his name being uttered by a firmly steadied voice of John Lennon. Paul sighed through his nose and unlatched the miniature containers of aspirin, placing them back in their original place as he stiffly turned to face John.

" _John_."

They gazed at each other for a minute, and no words had seemed to be shared. Paul drew in a breath, and let his hand linger upon the container of aspirin, never breaking his intense gaze with John who just eyed him promiscuously. "Got a lot of questions to ask you son." John suddenly stated, whilst crossing his arms and watching as Paul slipped the container into his pocket without any remorse. John taught him well.

"Figured." Paul cleared his throat, glancing about unnervingly as if someone was watching him. "Well uh- maybe we could talk later." Paul said, beginning to move away from John until the other man rested a hand on the other's chest to push him back to where he was originally.

"No Paul, you've left me in the rain waiting for you in the middle of the night with George. I'm not waiting around for you anymore like that, risking getting rick with something. Don't do that again.Secondly what did you even ask me out for?"

Paul glanced down at his shoes once John asked that question, his heart was beating profusely in his ears. It seemed as if the more he thought about the possibility of telling John, the more he'd get into some serious consequence-like trouble. The days that flown by seemed to get more and more out of the brunette's reach. At a point in one minute, he certainly did not know how to contact within himself to get this questioned answered at all. "I had to tell you something." Paul started, and then cleared his throat again. "Can we get out of here first though."

So they headed out of the drug store, and John's hand was gripping possessively onto Paul's forearm. There was a valley of the building, whereas old chipped paint of the two buildings foots closer to the drug store was becoming a hangout spot for grumpy middle aged hobos. Paul was backed up against the wall, feeling trapped lucidly between John's arms.

"Out with it." John kind of persuasively demanded, holding back the urge to attack the younger's lips for his own sake. He couldn't give into the troublesome beauty in front of him, whom was utterly weak at his own hands.

Paul was clearly hesitant to speak, evidence suggested so as his eyes trickled with some type of unfamiliar fear — not of John — but his own future.With a gritty voice, not even a replica of his naturally soft one that spun John into a hive of feelings, the scared teenager uttered. "Dot's pregnant."

It was John's turn for his face to grow pale. To be fair this was not in the agreement. Not at all. What agreement you ask? The agreement of not having an unfortunate — offspring in their outer- "relationships" while they conspire to their own unashamed relationship with each other. It'd be too much for either party. A child. A child. _A child_. John felt a taste in his mouth that resembled the expression on his face.

Suddenly Paul wasn't so pretty anymore.

•••


	2. Chapter 2

Dot always wondered what pregnancy seemed like. As a little girl, she'd ball up a thick blanket and shove it under her gown to make it seem as if she was carrying.

Now she was experiencing it. It wasn't a once in a lifetime requirement she had dreamt it was as a little girl. It was hell. She hadn't known what to do, whether to normally and just dismissively handle a disapproved shun from her elders or friends. Her hand was held up against her mouth, tears erect and emerging from her glistening eyes down her reddened cheeks. Her free arm was clutching her stomach, afraid, tragically afraid of what would come in the future. She unfortunately hadn't known how long she'd been carrying this child, and that terrified her the most.

Turning the lights off in her bathroom, Dot rubbed her eyes and retreated towards her room. Thankfully, no relatives were home and she'd have the time to herself without having to worry about a landslide of questions she did not want to answer.

When she told Paul the other night, he was reluctantly on his way to personally telephone the news to George and John. She remembered vividly as his skin transitioned as white as snow, and he had to regather himself for a moment. Dot had no exact idea why she expected Paul to be more supportive, the man was a lick towards nineteen years old with a child on the way.

_Moving his head up from his hands, he stared at her emotionlessly up through his thick eyelashes. "What are we going to do about this Dot?" She remembered him asking, his voice sharp and almost tinged with some type of anger but she was not so sure that the anger was directly towards her._

_"Get rings." Softly, she responded. "Tell others so we could get married."_

_"Married." Paul repeated, face scrunching up in some sort of disgusted expression. It made Dot furious, self conscious and downright hurt at the plain recoil given from only the suggestion of marriage._

_With her hand affectionately placed over her small, and barely formed pregnancy pudge — her eyes welled up with tears. "If you don't want to marry me then that's fine Paul. But we have no choice in that anymore do we? I'm pregnant and-"_

_"I don't want to get married period. Listen Dot, maybe-" He runs a hand through his dark hair, a teddy boy styled hair structure that went down over the time into a messily-slightly curled, passingly attractive mess. "Maybe I can get the staff at the hospital my mum used to work at to help you. They'll take care of you. I'll figure out a way to pay for everything."_

_Dot slapped the man across the face. The struck, almost-innocent blank look on Paul's face suddenly became a dark, scary and unfamiliar expression. A hand of his rested on his red cheek, and he stared intently at Dot with a stare that meant everything but apologetic. Nonetheless, the young girl stood her ground whether she was scared or not. She knew that Paul would never in his life; hit her, but his words would do as much damage as a punch. "I'm not killing our child Paul."_

_"Very well, do what you want."_

_Dot covered her face, and began to sob uncontrollably. Paul just stared at her, his dangerous expression softening just a bit. "Sorry." Paul casually said as if nothing critical just happened, and his jaw clenched while his spontaneous thought process was when in work._

_"I love you." Dot cried, staring up at Paul with glossy eyes._

_"I know."_

•••

Paul stuck his hands in his pocket once he was done rapping his knuckles against the door of George's home. His eyes were glued to his feet, simply not sure where else to look at. Exhaling a random breath, he thought about how John could take this. What could this mean for their relationship? Paul inhaled a long breath, feeling his body tingle with some type of rare form of an anxiety stroke. 

George opened the door, tired and squinting at the brightness of outside affecting his line of vision. "Paul? What are you doing here?" He asked, genuinely tired at everything. 

Paul eyed George for a bit, and clenched his jaw as he began step away from the door. "Um- tell John to meet me by the Cavern. I have something to tell him. It's important."

George nodded and began to creep back inside of his home until he paused, gripping tighter onto the door knob he pulled himself out again. He was still a bit confused about everything. "What is it that you want to tell him by the way?"

Paul had already disappeared.

George blinked, gulping down a knot of slight hurt from the way Paul was just so blunt with him. They hadn't seem to be talking a lot lately, but maybe it was just Paul's case and something internal was happening with him. Even then, Paul'd be more open with it. At this point, George was just close to not even caring anymore and letting whatever happens happen. He thought more about it whilst punching in John's number, waiting patiently for the older to pick up the phone so he could deliver the news.

•••

There was a silent two day gap between John and Paul. No complaints were uttered about it, well on Paul's part there wasn't. He seemed to understand the problem here, and that John was terrifically of upset with him to the point where Paul feared that they would no longer talk again. John was flabbergasted about everything to say the least, Dot being pregnant caught him all the way off guard. Knocked the wind out of him to be exact. To him it certainly wasn't something that Paul would enable, knocking up a girl and expecting a baby.

 _Paul would be a father_.

Things would just get ten times harder for both of them to be together, unless something magical happens. Or unbearably traumatizing, but John wouldn't want to wish that on any woman. Or would he? It's a dead thought.

"Cyn." John called out one evening when he sat out in the backyard to function his thoughts around, feeling paranoid.

"Yes?" Her soft voice replied from a distance which meant she wasn't in the same room.

"Are you pregnant?"

There was a bit of silence on the other end, and it caused John's head to lower into his hand from negative anticipation. Cynthia walked out into the backyard, face filtered with some type of dazzled confusion at the suddenly serious question. "What?"

"Jesus are you pregnant Cynthia? Carrying a baby. Does the bird with a fucking bag have to swoop in and drop a baby in our hands?"

"No..I'm not pregnant John." She replied in a way that was hurried, not wanting to get John more annoyed than he already seemed to be. "If I was pregnant I would have told you immediately, you know that. Why'd you ask?"

"Fucking Paul got his bird pregnant." John spat viscously. 

Cynthia lit up with excitement, something John hadn't seemed to be expecting from her. At the same time, he never told Cynthia that he loved Paul and it hurts to know that he knocked some girl up. "Dot? Oh John, we should help her out with the baby. Maybe I can buy some gift baskets for her! Those baby clothes, both genders would be nice since we don't really know the gender of the baby."

John stared intensely at the woman, eyes burning a hole into her body. "You do know that this could alter the band? Fuck us up financially, and musically."

Cynthia's smile tittered, "What? Come on John, stop thinking so harshly. A new life will be given and all you can think about i-" Suddenly John was face to face with her, scowling and hurt like a stray animal. "I don't give a fuck about the little shit if the fact hadn't come to you yet Cynthia. I'm only worried about one thing and it's the band's reputation. Some fucking kid is going to mess all that up for me. Paul's going to not have time for me anymore, he's going to be all wrapped up in the married life with Dot whole I'm just on the side and waiting for him."

Cynthia was taken back, easily ripped up between a layer of shocked and assuming. She reached up a shaking hand to touch his face, but John wrenched back and whirled away from her to storm inside of the house. 'What was that about?' Cynthia asked to herself, furrowing her eyebrows at the outburst. In curiosity, she placed her hand upon her stomach and gave it a light stroke.

She honestly wouldn't be surprised if she was pregnant, John had his moments where he was lacking and lazy. Cyn would have to push him off of her in a pleasured panic whenever John would suddenly gasp out, hips stuttering and his hands gripping into her in desperation.

One day she might miss that, and something dyer would happen.

•••

Paul looked into the mirror, tired, pale and scared. His palm was held out, two pills of aspirin to settle himself from the rumbling anxiety that continued to plague him. Really, he felt lost. He definitely lost John no doubt about it, and there was nothing to do about it. Well that's what he had thought. John looked as if he wanted to hurt Paul physically when the younger man told him the news, but instead he mumbled a congratulations and released him from the interrogative position.

After swallowing the pills dry, Paul splashed his face with water and walked out of his bathroom, bumping into Michael. "Scuse me." Paul muttered, ready to pass by his little brother to go outside and meet up with Dot.

Michael had not budged though. "Dad knows you've got your girl knocked up." He informed, and he crossed his arms while tilting his head at his brother. "I'm going to be an uncle then?"

Paul stared at Michael silently for a minute or two, feeling his insides crumple up into despair and some type of anguish. "No one is pregnant Mike. I don't know where you've heard that from." Paul pressed, ready to brush past his younger brother again until Michael took another step back to block his way.

"Dot told me at the market a couple of days ago, she said she was about a few weeks in. Kind of see it you know. Face got a bit fat."

"Oh fuck off."

Michael smiled in amusement, and Paul just exhaled in obvious discomfort.

"Dad wants to see you, come on." Michael said, motioning for Paul to follow him down the foyer to meet up with Jim McCartney for a possible lecture about young parenting.

So unfortunately there was no choice but to be offered cheap copper rings from a disappointed Jim McCartney. Plus, a silent car ride to a nearby church to persuade the pastor to announce his and Dot's marriage. Paul wondered what John was up to, and he wondered whether it was important to ponder over the idea of John's whereabouts at the moment.

 _He missed John_.

It seemed as if the two pills hadn't worked appropriately. Paul's hands were sweating, and he felt the urge to just dissolve into a small ball then roll himself to a hole forever. Father Smith approaches the young lad, and stared him over a bit. "Bloody Christ, how old are you? Too young to get married aren't you? You look a day over six years old son."

Paul held a stoic expression. "Turning nineteen in June."

"Are you sure?"

"Wouldn't be unsure about my age father, now would I?" Paul spat, feeling tested as if he was being condescended upon and he was right. Father Smith just chuckled, and turned his back towards the boy while shaking his head in shame.

"Young people these days. Don't know how to hold themselves anymore. So quick to rushing into a family, marriage and all of that. When their own taxes aren't even paid at the most."

"As if you're generation was any better." Paul replied, he wasn't mentally fit to argue with a pastor of a fucking church, but he wasn't willing to let this man ride the wave of disrespect towards him.

"I never said it was."

"In a way, you did." Paul returned, afterwards he narrowed his eyes and felt a wave of irritation wash over him. “ _Cunt_.” He hissed through his teeth afterwards.

Father Smith shot him a strange look. Paul returned it with a harsh glare.

Jim placed a protective hand on his elder child's shoulder. He knew that his son had a streak of uncovering silent anger, and it used to be an issue when he was younger. Squeezing Paul's trembling shoulder, Jim leaned in and whispered gently into his ear. "Easy son, easy. It'll all be over soon."

After a day went by, _still_ without checking on Dot ever since there argument almost a week earlier. Paul found himself standing in the middle of the road in front of Mimi's home. He hadn't known what his plan was, whether or not he should just walk up and knock on the door for either the impressively composed aunt Mimi to answer or a savagely cold John to reject his appearance and tell him to leave.

Paul took a step towards the fence, ready to unlatch it so he could open the gate up. Before he could, he heard the running footsteps of someone quickly approaching him. Paul turned his head to see George, out of breath and absolutely disheveled.

"Paul!" He rasped out, haunching over to catch his breath desperately.

Paul rushed towards his best mate, and held him up straight with an arm around his waist. "George are you alright? What's going on?"

"So I- well me and Pete went to the market. Saw Dot there-" George tried to push out through heaving breaths. Paul rolled his eyes, and mumbled; "She's always at the market." He said, releasing George when the young man finally balanced himself.

Ignoring Paul's insensitive comment - George continued, "And she just broke out crying and screaming, then she collapsed. I don't know what happened to her, but like she started bleeding all over the place."

Paul's mind went blank, suddenly he couldn't seem to feel his legs since they had simultaneously gone numb. "What? Is she alright?"

"I don't know, think she went to the hospital. I was trying to look for you everywhere, but- I couldn't find you so I was going to tell John to tell you."

"Bleeding."

"Yes."

“Hmm."

"I think she had a miscarriage."

•••


	3. Chapter 3

"What? Oh my God. Oh! John!" Cynthia's voice broke, sounding like she was about to cry. "John come here!" She cried out, placing her hand over her mouth to contain the horrified tone of her voice. Tears began to swell at the brim of her eyes as she tried to hold in her emotions as best as she could. Soon enough, the beautiful sound of the tune John was playing on his guitar halted and the older man swarmed towards Cynthia in concern.

"What's the matter?" John half expected that something happened with Paul, and boy did that made his heart do moves Mick Jagger couldn't even do. "Is- is it Paul?" He questioned, worried sick that something would of happened to his Paul. It wouldn't matter if John was upset at him at the moment, Paul was his baby, and over the past few days he'd been a bit paranoid about how quiet it has been. They hadn't written with each other in weeks.

Cynthia nodded, then shook her head but nodded again. She was unsure about both Dot and Paul, but both of them were in a dyer situation so it didn't matter. "John Dot's in the hospital, she collapsed at a market and- it was said she miscarried the baby."

John felt sick, and his skin prickled with goosebumps as chills of guilt ran down his spine. This couldn't be happening. All those things he spat about the poor unborn soul, and now it's dead? John was shook up to the core. "No..." He trailed off, head spinning and body suddenly feeling heavier than it should have been.

Cynthia sniffed, unable to cope with everything. "There's no words from Paul, but George told me over the phone that- he told Paul when they both were in front of Aunt Mimi's house."

John was even more taken back, at this point he needed to sit down in a chair with a cold glass of water to keep him thriving with all of this news being poured out to him. "They were at Mimi's? Paul was at Mimi's? What- why?"

"I'm guessing that Paul was going to go and see you."

"Unbelievable." John murmured and shook his head, exhaling in sheer distress of the situation.

"I still can't believe she just collapsed in the middle of a market."

"Why wasn't the bloke with her?" John asked, turning away from Cynthia to rush into the living room of Cyn's home. They were often settled there since her family was on vacation for a couple of weeks. "Fucking Christ Macca." John spat under his breath, urgently grasping at a jacket.

"Where are you going?" Cynthia asked, feeling obliged on helping John put on his jacket nonetheless.

"Got to go see Paul." John replied, and then turned to Cynthia to awkwardly lean in and kiss her cheek. "Be right back love."

Dot awoken to bright lights, and an IV hooked up to her wrists. She winced a bit, glancing around the unfamiliar room, then scrunching her face up from the smell of medicines and antibiotics. It was at this moment, she noticed she was in hospital. Her mouth was dry, with a pounding headache ripping through her skull. She felt horrible, sick and somewhat empty. It didn't take her long to notice that she was alone in a hospital room. No one visiting her. None of that. Wouldn't make sense if she felt hurt by it even though she was used to it.

It seemed as though when she thought about that, Paul entered the room with an expressionless face. Following behind him was George who had a more concerned face for the hurt female on the hospital bed. A doctor entered as well, closing the door behind him. Paul took a chair in the corner of the room while George sat next to her bed.

"Dot how are you feeling?" Doctor, name tagged Herbert asked. "Caused quite a scare for everyone."

"I don't know really, my head kind of hurts."

Paul muttered a soft, "Tragic."

George glanced over towards his friend, feeling his heart break at the shocked expression that never worn away on his face. Paul met his gaze for a couple of seconds and shoved his trembling hands into his pants then stared at his lap with a blank stare. He tried his best to fight off a small smile that began to form upon his lips. The relief washing over him was almost unsettling, scaring himself to death at the happiness that seemed to wash over him. God what has gotten into him? Soon enough the relief disappeared and horror dawned upon him as Doctor Herbert began to speak.

"I'm sorry to inform you that you've lost your baby. A boy he was. It wasn't your fault, his heart was not really pumping right and it just stopped."

Dot's face seemed to resemble Paul's, expressionless. Although relief had seemed to mask her actual feelings which were mixed emotions. George looked shocked, immediately pitying the young couple from their loss. "I'm sorry Dot." He said softly, the liverpudlian accent deep and tender for the young girl.

"It's alright."

•••

John hadn't expected to found Paul particularly at the Chicken Shop. Specifically in the middle of fucking London. He entered the restaurant, eyes finding Paul stuffing food into his mouth as if he hadn't ate in months. Which possibly was true, Paul has been looking a bit frail lately and it was possibly from all the drama happening. John walked over towards the table, grasping at a chair and pulling it back obnoxiously against the floor to plop down on it.

Paul looked up through his eyelashes, pausing his aggressive eating to stare at John. It was silent for a couple of minutes, and throughout the whole silence Paul was continuously sliding food into his mouth, never breaking his stare from John.

"Hey." John nodded his head as he greeted the younger man, which caused Paul to nod his head in greeting as well.

"Hi, how are you?"

"Fine. You?"

" _Good, good_."

Paul stuck another chip into his mouth. “Dot had a miscarriage.” 

“I know.” John replied, reaching over to grab a chip himself. “Came to check up on you about it. Are you alright?” 

“I’m kind of relieved to be honest. As harsh as that sounds. I mean- maybe I’ll have kids one day, but I’m glad that I don’t have to get married or have a child yet.” Paul muttered, biting down on his bottom lip while he thought about it. “I’m sorry John.” 

“Still mad at you.” 

“I’m sorry- really.” 

“I know.”

Both of them were eating now, comfortable silence coming over them. John looked up at him again, and both of them locked gazes. “Did you guys at least find out the gender?” John asked softly, something thrillingly affectionate in his voice that Paul loved dearly. 

“He would have been a boy.” 

“Hmm.”

”Would’ve named him John.” 

John choked. 

•••


End file.
